


Guess Who Came To Dinner

by sawbones



Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Difference, Infidelity, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 18:02:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12965235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sawbones/pseuds/sawbones
Summary: Riley's boyfriend Jonah gets caught up in an emergency at work and forgets their planned dinner date. Riley's sure he'll have to called it a night and head home alone when Jonah's father offers to keep him company instead.





	Guess Who Came To Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> This was a commission for the extremely kind and generous [fridayboy](http://fridayboy.tumblr.com/). None of the characters here belong to me.

Riley had to strain his neck to see the entrance from where he was sitting, tucked near the back of the restaurant in a dinky two-man booth. He knew there was no point in checking every ten seconds, but he couldn’t help himself; the waitress had already been over to ask for his order twice. The first time he’d said he was still waiting for someone, she’d been understanding - the second time, not so much. It was a Saturday night so the place was as busy as it ever was and as far as she was concerned, it probably looked like Riley was either a time waster, or couldn’t tell when he’d been stood up. 

He picked up his phone for the third time in ten minutes and tried calling Jonah again. It went straight to his voicemail - it was turned off, or out of battery. He frowned at the dimly lit screen. In all fairness, it hadn’t really been a formally arranged date, more a suggestion on a whim, but Riley had made sure to double check the place and time with Jonah that morning. He didn’t want to believe that he could have forgotten so easily, but then again, forgetting was preferable to there being something wrong. 

Riley’s frown only deepened as he scrolled through his contracts list. He didn’t share much of a social circle with Jonah - in fact, he hardly had his own social circle to begin with - but there was  _ one _ person he knew that could maybe help. 

R:  _ hey james, is jonah with u? _

Riley re-read the text a few times, wondering if it sounded a little too casual. He changed the  _ u _ to _ you _ and sent it anyway; a minute or two later, and his phone began to ring. Riley answered it immediately.

“Jonah?”

“Wrong Greyson, sorry,” came the warm response on the other end, “Is everything alright?”

“Oh, James. Sorry, I was expecting…” Riley trailed off, trying to keep the disappointment from his voice, “Yeah, everything’s fine, it’s just-- well, I was supposed to meet Jonah for dinner but he hasn’t turned up. I tried calling him but I can’t get an answer, I was just wondering if you’d seen him today.”

“You mean he didn’t tell you?” James said, “He got called in for an emergency screentest a few hours ago. Something about how the lead had to pull out and he was next on the list. He dropped everything and ran - you must remember how cut up he was about not getting the part in the first place, right?”

Riley leant back in his chair with a sigh of relief that was only slightly tinged by annoyance. He was glad that Jonah was okay, but he did wish he could have heard it from the man himself, “No, he didn’t tell me. I guess it must have slipped his mind - but that’s great news, I’m sure he’ll knock it out the park. He always does. Thanks for letting me know, James; at least this means I don’t have to hog this table any longer. I’m pretty sure the waitress is five minutes away from kicking me out.”

“Hm. Where are you?” 

“Hanoi Bike Shop,” Riley said, “You know the little Vietnamese place on the corner of Ruthven and Byres?”

“Vietnamese? Alright, I’ll be there in ten minutes,” James said. Riley blinked, not entirely sure if he heard him right.

“Ten minutes?”

“That’s what I said. Tell the waitress to hold on a little longer. I’m sure the tip will make-up for it,” James said, and before Riley could even respond, he had already hung up. 

Part of Riley honestly considered just leaving anyway, but he couldn’t bring himself to be that rude. Besides, he liked James. He liked James maybe a little bit more than he  _ should _ like his boyfriend’s father, but he could hardly blame himself: it was  _ James Greyson  _ \- he was the housewife’s favourite for a reason. He was handsome, and charming, and half the stories from his years of working and travelling he told were so interesting and far-fetched he would have called them lies coming from anyone else.

Riley spotted the waitress heading back his way: she looked stern, and didn’t have her order pad with her. It had been nearly an hour since he’d been seated. He rubbed his neck sheepishly and flashed her a smile before she could say anything.

“Uh, hi. Could I get a glass of water?”

 

\--

 

True to his word, James arrived almost exactly ten minutes later; damn near every head in the restaurant swivelled to watch him walk in, looking like he’d just stepped off the cover of GQ in an exquisitely tailored charcoal grey suit and matching silk tie. He spotted Riley and headed to him a toothy grin at him that made his stomach swoop like he’d missed the last step coming down the stairs. He stood to accept the kiss on his cheek, and savoured the gentle rasp of designer stubble.

“You look incredible,” Riley said, taking his seat again, “I hope I didn’t pull you away from something important.”

“Oh, not at all. I had an interview earlier, I got your message just as I was leaving actually so I didn’t bother getting changed,” James said as he picked up the menu, “Though I must admit, I feel a little overdressed now.”

Riley felt himself flush a little at that. He glanced around the restaurant, taking in the tacky decor, the paper lanterns and plastic tables. It was a popular place and he visited often, but he couldn’t call it Michelin Star dining, “I’m sorry. This place isn’t exactly a classy joint, if I’d known it was you I’d be eating with, I might have picked somewhere a little more...you know.”

James’s laugh was warm and genuine, “Not at all, I like it. It’s kitsch. I’m just surprised you managed to convince Jonah to come along.”

“He was sceptical at first, but he changed his mind once he tried the pho,” Riley said, “Besides, I have my methods of persuasion.”

James managed to turn the innocent statement into something vaguely dirty with a simple quirk of his brow - at least that’s how Riley felt. He brushed it off and mentally scolded himself for projecting, and for once when the waitress appear, he was actually glad to see her.

“I’d like the  _ gang ga nuong me _ , please, with a side of  _ dau phong _ ,” James said, the nasal vowels rolling off his tongue effortlessly. The waitress brightened up at hearing someone who didn’t butcher her native language, and after noting it down, she turned to look at Riley expectantly.

“Uh...I’ll have the spicy beef noodles, thanks.”

 

\--

 

It was easy to get lost in comfortable conversation with James, and before Riley had even noticed, hours had already slipped by. It wasn’t closing time yet but the restaurant had started to empty out a little until their table was one of only half a dozen or so, but when Riley suggested calling it a night, James had laughed. Apparently he felt the evening was still young...and that’s how Riley found himself in the kind of cocktail bar where a single round of drinks could make his bank balance weep. 

He toyed with edge of his glass; it was still half full, but James had already went up to the bar to order another round. They did table service, but he didn’t like to wait. It felt like their roles had been reversed: Riley was the one who was out of place, getting strange looks for the way he was dressed. He could tell there were people stealing glances, trying to figure out who James Greyson was buying drinks for, because it certainly wasn’t his wife. There was no reason for them to hide since they were just hanging out, but Riley still prayed no-one cared enough to call the paparazzi - he had enough of them trying to spend time with Jonah.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Riley jumped James’ sudden return; he sat the drinks on the table and gave Riley’s shoulder a squeeze as he sat down. He’d loosened his tie and undone the top button of his shirt to give a tiny tantalising glimpse of the warm smooth skin at the base of his neck - something which Riley cursed himself for noticing. 

“I wish just thinking it would be nice if Jonah could have joined us,” Riley said, taking a sip of his drink. It was sweet and fruity, and didn’t taste too strong. He still didn’t know what it was though, “This seems more like his kind of place.”

“I’m sorry, I know I must be a poor substitute,” James said, and he sounded sincere enough that Riley nearly choked on his drink.

“No, that’s not-- that’s not it at all, you’ve been great company. I’ve actually had a really nice night,” Riley said, “I’ll be honest, I kind of just wanted to go home after Jonah didn’t show up. Now I’m almost glad he didn’t.”

“Well, Greysons look after their own. I just couldn’t stand the thought of you wasting your evening alone,” James said. He reached across the small table and let his fingertips brush over the back of Riley’s hand, making him shiver. The touch didn’t feel very fatherly, nor did the look James gave him as he took a sip of his whisky. Riley’s stomach suddenly felt swarmed with butterflies; he smiled, but pulled his hand away.

“Hey, since Jonah’s not around, how about you tell me what’s involved in a screentest?” Riley asked, the picture of innocence. He hoped his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.

 

\--

 

James seemed more than happy to talk about the ins and outs of screentests and other parts of the business, using his own experience as an example. He explained that for a big production that has already started filming, the lead pulling out at short notice was nothing short of a disaster, and Jonah would be kept extremely busy over the next few days while they tried to cram in not just the actual screentest, but make-up testing, rig adjustments, and costume fittings too - not to mention trying to memorise most of a script. It sounded like Riley wasn’t going to see much of him for a while, but that was understandable.

It was all very interesting, and Riley was almost impressed with how unglamorous James made it sound; just like their dinner at the restaurant, he didn’t even notice the time slipping by until he yawned hard enough to crack his jaw.

“I’m sorry, that was really rude,” Riley said sheepishly, even while James laughed, “You’re not boring me, I promise.”

“It _ is _ getting quite late,” James said as he thumbed the rim of his empty glass, the half-melted ice clinking against the side, “If you want to go pick up our jackets, I’ll call my driver.”

Driver. Of course. A cab would be far too mundane. Riley excused himself from the table and made his way to the front entrance where a cloakroom attendant was politely waiting. He didn’t find himself in the kind of place that had a cloakroom very often, so he felt a little awkward.

“Do you need a ticket, or-?” he asked the attendant.

“No, sir. I know exactly what coats are yours,” she said. A few moments later and she was handing them over - and Riley could have sworn she winked, “I can’t say I’m not jealous.”

It took a second for Riley to realise what she meant, and he gaped at her like a fish before he found his voice, “It’s not like that. He’s my boyfriend’s father.”

“Hey, I’m not judging,” she said with a one-shouldered shrug. It was that moment James chose to show up, appearing beside Riley with a warm hand on the small of his back.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, and Riley nodded, “Great. The car will be here in a few minutes, let’s wait outside.”

“Have a good night, Mr Greyson,” the attendant said after James slipped her a generous tip. Her smirk was far too smug, like she’d just been proven right.

 

\--

 

They didn’t talk much in the car. Riley didn’t know if it was because they were tired, or maybe they had drank too much - although he still didn’t feel drunk, just pleasantly fuzzy-headed. Maybe they’d just talked so much all night that there was nothing left to say. He let his head rest against the cool tinted glass of the window as he watched the city lights roll by, and tried to ignore the strange tension that rolled across the back seat. 

The car pulled up outside Riley’s house, so he got out and shut the door behind him - and to his mild surprise, so did James. 

“Where are you going?” Riley asked cautiously.

“What sort of gentleman would I be if I didn’t walk you to your door?” James asked. He offered his arm to Riley, who took it but only after making a point of rolling his eyes - it was only a few feet away.

“Okay, your gentlemanly duties have been fulfilled, unless you’re going to kiss me goodnight as well,” Riley said, taking his arm back and fishing for his keys in his pocket. James didn’t say anything; he leaned against the door and watched Riley with the same expression from the cocktail bar - the one that simmered with heat just below the surface.

“Would you like me to?” 

Riley nearly dropped his keys; he fumbled with them as he fumbled with his words, his face growing hot. It didn’t sound like James was joking, but he couldn’t be serious - right? 

“I--” Riley began, but whatever else he had to say was lost when James caught his slack lips in a kiss - gently at first, like he was only teasing, then with more hunger, his hands coming up to cradle Riley’s face. He didn’t kiss back at first, but neither did he resist; he froze up, eyes wide, fists clenched at his side...but it was easy to get caught up in the taste of whisky on his breath, the soft scratch of his stubble, even the warm, rich scent of the cologne he was wearing. Riley unclenched his fists and leaned into the kiss, his fingertips ghosting over James’ lapels like he was going to drag him closer, but as soon as he touched the fabric, he pulled away like he’d been given an electric shock.

“Wait,” he blurted, “What are you--?”

James shushed him with a finger to his lips, turned the touch into a caress, tracing the seam of Riley’s mouth, “You’re too smart to play dumb, Riley. It doesn’t suit you. I think you’ve been expecting this.”

“What about Jonah?” Riley asked, ignoring the accusation. There was a difference between wanting and expecting, wasn’t there? “What about your wife?”

“My wife and I love each other very much, and we are both comfortable knowing that nothing we do will change that,” James said lightly, “And what Jonah doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.”

A secret wouldn’t hurt him, but the truth might break his heart if it ever came out. Riley felt torn; he knew he should have slammed the door shut in James’ face already, but he hadn’t even taken a step away from him. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip and imagined he could still taste the whisky, “I don’t know…”

“I’m not going to talk you into it, Riley,” James said, “If you want me to go, then say goodnight and I’ll leave and never give this a second thought. If you want me to stay - and I know you do - then all you have to do is open that door and let me in.”

Riley looked away. Maybe James was right: maybe Jonah didn’t have to know. He certainly didn’t plan to tell him about what had  _ already _ happened. His gaze flickered back to James’ calm face, and he cursed how handsome he was, how easily his own body betrayed him with just a single kiss. Then, he stuck his key in the lock and opened the door.

 

\--

 

Riley thought James would be on him as soon as he shut the door, but he wasn’t. He seemed to be waiting politely as he shrugged off his shoes and jacket, a small smile playing on the corner of his lips. Riley’s palms felt sweaty as he turned to face him.

“James, I--”

“No,” James interrupted, “It’s Mr Greyson now.”

Riley swallowed down the moan that threatened to escape him, but he couldn’t hide the shiver that wracked him from top to toe. Without another second of hesitation, he threw his arms around James’ neck and rocked onto his toes for another kiss - this time, it was far less gentle, far less timid. He pour all his sudden want, all his need into the kiss, so much so that when they finally parted, James seemed almost surprised.

“I thought you would like that,” he said, flashing a grin that was far too self-satisfied; Riley considered scolding him for being a dirty old man, but he couldn’t complain when James was absolutely right. He hooked his fingers into James’ belt and began to guide him towards the bedroom; his heart was beating at a million miles per hour but it wasn’t because of the guilt, which was rapidly fading under the heat of James’ gaze.

James shut the bedroom door behind them and gently pushed Riley towards the bed, like it was his house. 

“Get undressed and get on the bed,” he said, “Hands and knees.”

“Aren’t you going to say please, Mr Greyson?” Riley asked, equal parts innocent and brattish. He wanted to push James’ buttons, if only just a little bit; he knew the role he had to play.

James narrowed his eyes in a not-quite smile, and leant down to let his lips brush against Riley’s ear, “Don’t make me repeat myself. You might not like it.”

Riley didn’t know how serious the implied threat was, but even though he was tempted to find out, he did as he was told and turned towards the bed. He began to undress; he could feel James watching him with clear hunger. It was hard not to feel inadequate - in fact, there was a part of him that refused to truly believe that one Greyson wanted him never mind  _ two _ , something that should only exist in the depths of someone’s jack-off fantasies - but there was no mistaking James’ obvious arousal as he pressed up against Riley’s bare back, the hot length of his still-clothed cock trapped between them. 

He was only there for a second and then he was gone again, but it was enough that Riley’s knees felt weak as he crawled onto the bed. He expected James to join him but instead he stepped around the side of the bed and began to look through the nightstand.  

“Ah, it’s in the bottom drawer,” Riley said once he realised what he was looking for. A bottle of lube and a strip of condoms landed on the bedsheets by his hand, and he could feel his stomach clench in anticipation. He kept his gaze focused on the pillow in front of his face, listening to the sound of James getting undressed behind him: the creak of buttons, the hiss of a zip, the soft whisper of expensive fabric dragging across skin. He wanted to look but there was something unbearably erotic about not knowing what was coming next.

Riley was so focused on listening that he jumped when warm, broad hands came to rest on his bare ass. James caressed him, squeezing his cheeks; Riley felt exposed and flattered, and more than a little overwhelmed already. His cock was hard and wanting where it hung between his legs, but James ignored it. 

“You look really cute like this,” he said, and Riley wanted to object to being called cute but James pressed the pad of his thumb against his hole and pushed slightly - not enough to penetrate, but just enough to kill his complaint, “I don’t know why I didn’t do this sooner.”

Riley could think of a hundred reasons why they hadn’t done this sooner, or why they shouldn’t do it at all, but not a single one seemed to matter when James took his thumb away and replaced it with a cool, slick finger. He gave him no warning as he began to push it into him; it stung a little, but when Riley jerked his hips away, James held him in place with his other hand. 

“C’mon Riley, be a good boy for me, open up,” James murmured, smearing kisses up Riley’s spine as he pressed another finger into him already, not giving him time to get comfortable. He had a feeling James wanted to keep him on his toes, to make it clear he was the one in control of what was happening. Riley reached between his legs to stroke his neglected cock, hoping to take the edge off, but he was stopped.

“Please,” he said, the word slipping out from between his slack lips before he could help himself. He just wanted to be touched.

“I don’t think so,” James said, grinning against Riley’s shoulder. His fingers were still rocking into him, making his legs shake. The ache was fading, slowly replaced by sparks of pleasure, “You are not allowed to touch yourself unless I say so, okay? I’m the one who decides _ if _ and when you cum tonight.”

Riley moaned his agreement into the pillow, his toes curling; he wasn’t close yet at all but hearing James say such filthy things in  _ that _ damn voice still felt dangerous. Frustrated that he couldn’t touch himself, he spread his legs a little wider, pushed back against the fingers buried inside of him. He wouldn’t call himself a greedy man but he already wanted more, and James seemed happy to oblige. 

“You’re doing so well. You can take one more, can’t you?” James asked. Riley could feel the third digit teasing his entrance, but it didn’t push in until he nodded shakily. The fresh pain was quickly swallowed by a pleasure that made him impatient. He wiggled his hips, trying to coax James along, but it seemed he was determined to take his sweet time - and sweet it was to be stretched around his fingers, full but not quite full _ enough _ . 

James pulled his fingers out without warning; he laughed at Riley’s unhappy noise, a brattish protest that died away when he heard the crinkle of the condom wrapper. Riley pushed himself up onto his hands, his head low, struggling to contain his grin when those fingers were replaced by something thicker, slick and blunt. James teased him, dragging the head of his cock across his hole until he couldn’t it any more. 

“ _ Mr Greyson _ ,” he whined, rocking back against him. James responded by swatting his ass with an open palm and shushing him. He began to push in, agonisingly slowly at first, his hands gripping Riley firmly by the hips to stop him squirming; just when Riley thought he was going to lose his mind, James shoved in the last few inches, grinding his hips when they were pressed flush against him. 

When he began to thrust, his pace was firm but not cruel; he kept one hand on Riley’s hip, and the other ran up his spine to loosely grip him by the back of the neck. There was something oddly predatory about the small gesture, something possessive in all the best ways. Desperate for any kind of stimulation, Riley reached between his legs once more - but before he could even lay a finger on himself, a hand grabbed him by the elbow, wrenching his arm back. 

“If you’re going to misbehave--” James said through gritted teeth, moving back from Riley but not pulling out. Still holding on to his arm, he brought his other one round to meet it and began to wind something around his wrists; something smooth, almost slippery against his skin even as it was knotted tightly.

“Is that your tie?” Riley gasped, twisting his head to the side in an attempt to see. Dark grey silk, probably costing more than he could make at the coffee shop in a month. James chuckled breathily.

“You like that?” he asked as he began to thrust again, hard and slow, his skin slapping against Riley’s. Riley could only moan his keening approval into the pillow as he arched his back, his fingers clenching on empty air. Without his hands, he could no longer hold himself, could no longer push back against James; he was completely at his mercy, and he loved it.

James fucked him in a steady, almost punishing rhythm; his voice was a stream of filth in Riley’s ear as he curled over him, pressing him to the bed. He praised him, told him all the dirty little things he wanted to do to him, how long he’d been thinking about it - Riley couldn’t even make sense of half of it, but he didn’t need to. Just hearing him was enough, maybe even too much. He wanted it to last all night but he’d never been so turned on in all his life. 

“Mr Greyson--” Riley forced out between clenched teeth, equal parts a warning and a plea. James had warned him not to cum but he was pushed toward it with every jarring thrust. 

“So close already?” he whispered against his ear, not breaking his pace. His voice was a little shaky; it thrilled Riley to know he wasn’t unaffected by all this, “Do you think you deserve it?”

Riley nodded, his  _ please _ lost in his moans; he couldn’t think of anything he wanted more, and his heart felt like it would beat out of his chest when James pushed a hand beneath him and took a hold of his aching cock. It only took a two, three strokes and he was cumming harder than he’d ever came before, spilling over the damp sheets beneath him. James stroked him through it as he went limp and lose boned, sweat streaking his skin as he kept rocking into him. Riley could tell by the hitch in his breath that he was close too; few short thrusts later and he followed Riley over the edge.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours but could only have been minutes, with Riley trapped beneath James, his wrists still bound. James rolled off of him and onto his back before it became hard to breath; he unpicked the knot in the tie and threw it to the side somewhere, massaging blood back into Riley’s fingers.

“I wasn’t too rough with you, was I?” he asked when neither of them had said anything yet. Riley grunted, shook his head. He even managed a sleepy smile. 

“I would have stopped you if you were,” he said. James leaned over, placed a kiss on his shoulder, another one at the corner of his mouth. He looked like he wanted to say something, but instead got up and started collecting his clothes from the bedroom floor.

“Normally I don’t just disappear afterwards, but--” James began, and trailed off. Riley rolled over and sat up, cringing at the pleasant aches in his body.

“No, I understand, I-- well, I should probably have a shower before Jonah gets home,” Riley said. He felt a pang of guilt but tried to not let it show, “Maybe change the sheets.”

James nodded as he finished buttoning up his shirt. He shrugged on his jacket and seemed about to leave, when he walked back to the bed and took Riley between his hands, kissing him one more time.

“This was fun, Riley. We should do it again some time.”


End file.
